


A Strange Acquisition

by SunflowerSupreme



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Abortion, Alpha Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Discussion of Abortion, M/M, Medical Kink, Medical Procedures, Miscarriage, Mpreg, Non-Consensual Touching, Omega Jaskier | Dandelion, Past Rape/Non-con, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Kink, Prompted Work, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slave Jaskier | Dandelion, Slavery, loss of a child
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:14:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27460279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunflowerSupreme/pseuds/SunflowerSupreme
Summary: Prompt: i loved your medical inspection fic so much and I was wondering about the dark version you mentioned??? or maybe one with a pregnant jaskier?
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 211
Kudos: 404





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I took the dark version that I had part way written and added the pregnancy element so I hope this works!

“Pick one,” the merchant had said, waving his hand at a row of Omegas.

Geralt didn’t want one - hadn’t ever wanted one - but it was clear there was no other payment to be had for his work, so he’d glanced down the line surveying the selection.

His eyes landed on a peculiar sight. “That one’s pregnant,” Geralt said bluntly. He’d never, not once in his entire life, seen a pregnant Omega up for sale. In fact, he’d never seen a pregnant Omega in person before.

The slaver’s reaction was immediate, scowling at his companion. “I told you not to bring that one out! Get it out of here!” Turning to Geralt he said, “Apologies, my men had a bit too much fun and we haven’t had time to kill the parasite yet.”

Geralt’s reaction was immediate. “I want him.”

The slaver’s companion, who had been preparing to drag the Omega away, froze, then looked at his boss for clarification.

The slaver seemed started as well, then laughed, a cruel, loud noise. “So it’s true you Witchers eat babies?”

Geralt didn’t justify that with a responce.

Flesh Markets made his skin crawl, but work was work, and the Omega had only been a part of his payment - there was also a decent amount of coin - so Geralt couldn’t complain.

The Omega was unchained and led forward, but rather than having his chain handed to Geralt, the Witcher was instructed to follow after him. They disappeared into the slaver’s shop, where rows of ‘accessories’ (collars, chains, whips, and many items Geralt couldn’t place) lined the dark shelves.

The Omega seem to have a difficult time walking, moving slowly, stumbling occasionally, only to be jerked forward with a harsh yank on his collar.

At last they stopped entered a small room, outfitted like a doctor’s office. “You’ll want to inspect it, of course,” the slaver explained. The Omega stripped without any prompting, then lifted himself on the examination table.

“It’s healthy enough, except for the child.”

Geralt found himself asking, “Is he mute?” 

“No, but if you want it’s tongue removed-” the slaver gestured to a rather wicked looking instrument on the shelves.

“No,” Geralt said. “I don’t think I do.”

The Omega laid on his back, scooting his ass to the edge of the table, and placing his feet in the stirrups. He wrapped a leather strap around his ankles, tying himself in place, then laid back, putting his hands in similar straps above his head and looking to Geralt expectantly to do the ties for him.

Geralt stepped forward, tying the boy man’s hands in place. “What’s his name?”

“I always just called it _cumbucket_ ,” the man admitted, shrugging. An array of medical toys were pushed toward Geralt, and then the men left, leaving him alone with the bound slave.

There was no denying his beauty, stretched out on his back and exposed for Geralt’s inspection. He had a slender build which only enhanced the look of his fat belly. That, combined with his blue eyes and blonde hair, made him almost appear doll-like.

_I should untie him_ , thought Geralt. _He’s uncomfortable_. But even as he thought that, he found himself reaching not for the ties, but instead for the man’s swollen belly.

Geralt couldn’t help his fascination with him. He could count on one hand the number of Omegas he’s touched (it was two, they were incredibly rare) and he’d never in his life imagined getting to see one heavy with child.

“What’s your name?”

“Whatever you would like to call me, sir.”

Geralt decided not to continue the line of questioning. His stomach was firm under Geralt’s gloved hand, and without thinking he peeled his glove off and touched him with his bare fingers. Warmth emanated from him. “How far along are you?”

“Four months, sir,” whispered the Omega.

“Has the birth canal begun to open yet?” Yet another fascinating aspect of Male Omegas was that they had no proper birth canal until they were pregnant. A chanel would form during the pregnancy, then shortly before birth a hole would rip open between their balls and anus. Once the baby was born it had to be stitched closed to heal back up.

“No sir.”

Geralt couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed, having wondered what the canal might look like. He ran his hands up the man’s chest, feeling his breasts.

The boy whimpered.

“Sore?” Geralt guessed, squeezing his nipple. To his surprise, tiny amount of milk flowed out. Clearly he, like many Omegas, got his milk early. He couldn’t stop himself from scooping the milk onto his finger and sampling it, licking his lips at the agreeable taste.

“Yes sir.”

He forced himself to move his hand back. “I’m sorry.”

_What the deuce am I doing?_ he wondered, looking down at the frightened man. _I should have stopped him the moment he began to undress, told those men I didn’t need to look him over_. _I should apologize and let him up now_.

But instead he found himself saying, “I’m nearly finished, then we’ll find you a warm meal.”

“Thank you!” The Omega sounded genuinely excited, the first true emotion he’d shown (other than the fear that undercut his every movement).

He should end it there, but Geralt couldn’t help himself, there was something left that was still far too tantalizing. Slowly he knelt between the man’s spread legs, lifting his cock out of the way. The Omega sucked in a frightened breath and whimpered, his earlier excitement vanishing.

It wasn’t hard to guess why. A bit of semen trickled from his inflamed hole. _That explains why they haven’t aborted the pregnancy yet_ , he realized. _As long as he’s ‘damaged goods’ they can continue to play with him_.

“I’m sorry, sir,” whispered the Omega.

Geralt rubbed his thigh. “Would you like me to clean you off?”

“Whatever pleases-”

“I want to know what you want,” he said. “Shall I clean you out?”

For a long moment, the Omega didn’t reply. Then softly he whispered, “Yes please sir.”

Geralt hunted around the small room for clean cloth, then knelt back between his legs. _It’s a good thing I inspected him_ , he told himself. _I would never have known he needed help if I hadn’t_. It was a terrible lie and he knew it, but it did some to alleviate his guilt.

The Omega whimpered when he touched the cloth to his skin.

“You’re tender,” Geralt realized. It made sense, given the strange changes that were currently going on just under his skin. “This hurts?”

“You can still fuck me sir,” promised the Omega. “My hole will still feel good on your cock.”

“Is that what they told you?”

“Yes sir.”

“I’m not like them,” he promised. “I’m not interested in fucking you.”

“You just want my baby,” accused the Omega. Belatedly he added a weak, “Sir.”

Geralt didn’t quite know what to say to the accusation. “I’m going to open you up,” he said.

“There’s a speculum on the table,” said the Omega. “It would help.”

With a nod he found the metal tool - a ring with several prongs - and pressed it against the boy’s hole. Slowly he eased it inside him, then opened it up. More semen trickled out of him, leaving a puddle on the floor. The prongs held him open as Geralt pushed his fingers through the ring and into his hole.

“Do you want your baby?” he found himself asking as he rubbed his fingers inside the boy, scooping out the mess of slick and cum. He was filthy, only a proper bath would clean him properly, but Geralt did what he could.

The Omega said nothing. “You can tell me,” Geralt pushed. “I won’t punish you.”

“I’m an Omega sir,” he said quietly. “I’m meant to be bred.” His voice was thick with tears, although it was impossible to tell if it was from the conversation or Geralt’s probing fingers.

“I don’t really want your baby,” he confessed. What the hell would he do with one, anyway? “I just-” There was no easy way to explain that he’d chosen him out of pure curiosity, a desire to touch something that had always been so off limits. “I don’t want your baby.”

The Omega said nothing.

“You’re as clean as you’re going to get,” he said, pushing himself to his feet. “I’ll order you a bath and we can clean you up better later.” Unbidden, his hand moved to rest on the Omega’s belly.

“Yes sir. Thank you sir.”

“Let me untie you,” he said, forcing himself to stop stroking the Omega. The man didn’t move once Geralt freed him, remaining in the same position and staring at the Witcher, waiting for guidance.

Geralt helped him up, then glanced around, realizing the slavers had left with the boy’s clothes. “Your clothes are gone.”

“They’re not mine, sir,” explained the boy. “Broodmares don’t need clothes.”

“It’s snowing outside,” Geralt said with a sigh. He shrugged off his cloak and draped it over the Omega’s shoulders. “Can you walk?”

“Yes sir.”

Geralt doubted that, but he didn’t argue. The boy managed to totter out the door, then lost his balance and stumbled. He would have fallen flat on his face if Geralt hadn’t caught him up. Without another word he gathered him into his arms put him on his back to carry him out of the shop.

The slaver was standing outside. At the sight of Geralt with the Omega on his back he laughed. “Give it’s arse a good fucking already, Witcher?” he laughed. “Fuck it hard enough and the baby might just pop out its mouth!”

“My coin?” Geralt asked bluntly.

He was tossed a bag by the man, then a large, knotted dildo. “It loves when you shove that up its hole,” the slaver promised.

The Omega whimpered.

Geralt carried him to where Roach was tied to the shop’s railing, putting the coin and the disgusting toy in her saddlebag. He shrugged the boy off his shoulders and sat him on the saddle, then swung up behind him. The Omega was small enough that they both fit in Roach’s saddle without too much discomfort, even though it meant he was practically on top of Geralt.

“I won’t put that thing in you,” Geralt promised quietly as he steered Roach away. Behind him, the slavers were betting on how long the Omega would survive while the leader picked the next ‘cumbucket’ to be raped.

Geralt grit his teeth and guided Roach on to the inn.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys really wanted more. 
> 
> This chapter was stuff that I originally had as part of the first chapter but I ended up cutting it for length and pacing.

Geralt stared as the Omega ate. He’d rented a room at the end and had food brought up to it, telling the boy to help himself. Deep down he knew he ought to offer him his spare clothes - trousers, at the very least - but he wasn’t quite done looking at him yet.

There was a strange thrill about the knowledge he would get from the Omega, like when he’d stumbled across books of forbidden magic during his training at Kaer Morhen. He’d been beaten once he was caught, but no one was going to beat him for studying the Omega.

No one would care what he did to the boy. He shook his head. _I’m not going to hurt him_ , he told himself sternly. _I’m just going to help him and learn a bit along the way_.

It didn’t matter to Geralt if he kept the baby or not - he intended to offer him an abortion, he wasn’t a monster, he wouldn’t force him to carry his rapist’s baby - either one would be interesting. “Have you had a baby before?” he asked.

The boy paused mid-bite. “I’ve been pregnant before,” he said slowly. Then he quickly looked away, mumbling, “I- I lost the baby.”

“It was aborted?”

“No sir.”

“You miscarried?”

“Yes sir.”

Even though it was clear that the line of questioning was upsetting the man, Geralt couldn’t resist asking, “What was that like?” 

The Omega looked down, shoving a bit more food in his mouth, then whispered, “It hurt sir.”

“What were the symptoms?” The Omega winced at the question and Geralt quickly lied, “So I know what to watch for, in case you get sick.”

“Pain in my stomach,” he said quietly. “I woke up to blood between my legs, soaking everything.”He licked his lips and took another bite. “Sir?”

“Hmm?”

His eyes were huge saucers, full of fear and trepidation. “What happens if I loose the baby?”

Geralt tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

The boy looked down at his half-empty plate. “What would the punishment be?”

“You were punished for loosing the baby?”

“My master let all the servants use me,” he whispered. “And then he sold me to buy a better Omega.”

Geralt placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Look at me,” he said. “I don’t care what happens to the baby. If you loose it I will be sorry, but I will not punish you.”

The Omega’s eyes flicked nervously, looking away from Geralt and studying the wall behind the Witcher. “What if I don’t want it?”

“Then I’ll buy you a potion for an abortion.”

“You won’t just punch it?”

Geralt shook his head. “No. I won’t punch you.”

The Omega’s eyes gleamed, he leaned forward, almost crawling onto the table with excitement. “At all? You won’t hit me?”

It seemed he needed to lay down rules with him. Geralt hadn’t really thought anything through, hadn’t thought about what he was going to with with an Omega in the long run. _He won’t be pregnant forever_ , murmured a voice in the back of his head. He pushed the voice away, focusing instead on his young companion. “I will not punch you, or slap you. I will not hit you on your head, your chest, or your belly. I don’t believe in using whips or knives.” 

“I understand sir.”

“I expect you to do what I tell you to do and to always be truthful. In return, I will see to it that you’re cared for. I don’t make much, and sometimes you will go hungry, or have to sleep outside. It is unfortunate, but unavoidable. However, I will never withhold basic needs as a punishment.”

“Yes, sir.” He seemed less excited than he had been before, clearly realizing that there would be consequences.

“Look at me, Omega.”

The boy looked up, still afraid to meet Geralt’s eyes, staring instead at his chin. “Sir?”

“If you misbehave I will punish you, with my hand or a switch, no more. I will never break skin and I will only hit your bottom and thighs.”

“Really?”

Somehow, out of everything Geralt had just said, that was what made him sit up and look excited.

“I’m not cruel. And, no I do not eat babies or Omegas.” He gave him a small smile, hoping that it would show the boy that he didn’t mean him any harm. “You are always free to ask me questions. I won’t ever punish you for asking questions.”

“I can ask questions?”

“Always.”

He looked around, licking his lips nervously. His cornflower eyes landed on the narrow bed. “What about… sex?”

“I’m infertile,” Geralt said bluntly. “I am capable of having sex, but I cannot impregnate you.”

The Omega stared at him a moment longer. Geralt sighed, realizing he wanted to know more. “I’m not going to rape you. Perhaps one day I will take you to bed, but only if you want it.”

He wanted the boy to want it. He’d never bedded an Omega before, wanted to know what it felt like, but he wasn’t about to tie him down or drug him.

Once again, the Omega was far too pleased by such a simple act of kindness. “Thank you.”

Geralt motioned for the boy to finish his meal and leaned back, studying him. He kept one hand on his belly as he ate, not quite protectively, it seemed more than anything that he was supporting it. He didn’t seem attached at all to the child growing inside him. Perhaps he would want to terminate the pregnancy.

Geralt hid a bit of disappointment at that thought. _I’d always been told that Omegas are fiercely protective of their offspring, but perhaps not._ It was one of the excuses he’d heard people give for raping Omegas, that they craved children and didn’t care who put it in them.

But studying the young man, he couldn’t help but realize he was little more than a child himself. _I really don’t know anything about him and I probably should. It’s not fair to him if I keep calling him ‘the Omega’ or ‘boy’ and I’m certainly not going to call him cumbucket or anything else those men came up with._

“I really do want to know what your name is,” he said softly. “Surely you have one?”

“My parents named me Julian, sir.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Julian,” he said. “My name is Geralt. You may call me that.”

“I- you want that sir- uh Geralt?”

“Yes.” After a moment’s pause Geralt asked, “How old are you?”

“Seventeen sir- I mean, Geralt.”

He winced. Seventeen and already on his second pregnancy? Geralt didn’t know much about Omegas, but that didn’t seem right.

Julian picked at his food, then whispered, “That’s what I’m supposed to say.”

“Supposed to say?” Geralt repeated. “Is it- are you _younger_?” It wasn’t easy for him to guess the ages of humans, and the Omega was chronically underfed, making it even harder. _Oh gods, please don’t let him be a kid_. _I had my hand in his ass_.

“Twenty three.”

Geralt relaxed. “Good,” he said quietly.

Julian pushed his empty plate away, tapping his fingers nervously on the table.

“What is it?” Geralt asked.

“My bottom is very sore sir, could you hit my thighs?”

“What?”

The boy curled in on himself, pulling his knees into his chair hiding in them. “I lied,” he whispered. “Will you please hit my thighs?”

Geralt didn’t think the lie was worth disciplining the boy over, but he wasn’t certain that giving him a free pass for his first transgression was a good idea. “Fuck,” he moaned.

“We could do that.”

“No, kid, I’m not-” He shook his head. “Come here.”

The boy struggled to his feet, making his way around the table by leaning heavily against it. His feet dragged over the ground, too weak to pick them up properly. Geralt felt sick at the thought of punishing him.

_I have to_ , he thought worriedly. _He expects it, and if I don’t it will only confuse him_. But he couldn’t.

Geralt cupped his chin. “I’m not going to punish you,” he said quietly. “You had that lie beaten into you, didn’t you?”

“Yes, sir. With a riding crop sir.”

“Then it wasn’t your fault.”

Julian nodded slowly. “Thank you Geralt.”

The Witcher pushed his chair back and stood, wrapping his arm around Julian and guiding him toward the bed. “You need to rest,” he said. “And then tomorrow I have questions for you.”

“Yes sir. Thank you sir.”

He had to pick him up to get him onto the bed, since the Omega was too weak to do it himself, laying him out and carefully draping the blanket over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m thinking. Since you guys wanted me to continue this story so badly (and I’m not complaining, it’s fun to write), I thought you might give me some ideas for where it should go next. 
> 
> Feel free to drop ideas in the comments here or in [my ask box on tumblr!](https://sunflowersupremes.tumblr.com/asks)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So far the general consensus seems to be ‘get rid of the baby eventually somehow’ which is excellent since I a) know nothing about babies, b) don’t really like children and c) this isn’t even about the baby.

Geralt woke to the sound of crying.

“Julian?”

“I’m sorry! I- I didn’t mean to wake you-”

He pushed himself up, reaching out for the boy and pulling him closer. “Are you- are these contractions?”

The Omega shook his head. “It’s just cramps from- from the canal forming.”

“Oh.” Geralt didn’t know what to do. “Tell me what helps.”

His voice was thick with tears. “I don’t _know_.”

He gathered the boy up in his arms, holding him tightly to his chest. “Shhh,” he murmured. “Shhhh.”

The Omega continued sobbing. Geralt hated feeling helpless. _Muscle cramps_ , he thought. _What helps muscle cramps?_ He ran through a list of possible treatments in his head, discarding a few that would poison a human and a few more because he didn’t have the supplies he would need.

He didn’t protest as Geralt stretched him out on the bed, making him kneel on all fours, rubbing his back gently.When his hand moved lower the boy only moaned. “Settle down, Julian,” Geralt soothed.

He cupped the boy’s ass, rubbing gently between his legs, pushing his knuckles into the tender flesh of his perineum. His other hand cupped his abdomen, just above his cock, holding his hips where he needed him. But it didn’t seem to be helping, the Omega kept whimpering and shaking.

Geralt sat back and studied the boy’s exposed body, frowning. He was no longer dripping semen, which was an improvement on the last time he’d studied the nude Omega, but his genitals were still red and inflamed.

Unable to help himself, Geralt reached out and pressed his finger against the boy’s hole. There was no resistance, like he would expect from a normal person’s anus, instead the hole just sucked his finger inside.

He stared, then pushed a second finger inside.

The Omega whimpered.

Startled back to reality, Geralt froze, forced to think quickly to come up with an excuse for his actions. “Easy, boy,” he said. “I thought the pressure might help.” He cupped the boy’s lower stomach again, then pushed his fingers downward.

“Doesn’t help,” sniffled the Omega. “Please- please, master-”

Geralt pulled his fingers out, rubbing his back apologetically. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Let me try something else.”

“No!”

“No more penetration,” Geralt promised. He started a fire in the hearth, then hung a pot of water over it. Once the water was warm - not quite boiling - he poured it into a leather waterskin.

Turning back to the bed he could see the Omega peering out at him, his eyes nervous. “Come sit with me,” Geralt said.

He struggled out of the bed, falling more than stepping, and crawled across the floor to Geralt. Pulling the boy into his lap Geralt adjusted the cloak that was still wrapped around his shoulders, then picked up the waterskin.

“Here,” he said, moving to put the waterskin between the boy’s legs. “The heat will help.”

The Omega seemed uncertain, but he nodded anyway. “Thank you sir,” he whispered. After a moment he seemed to relax, pushing it more firmly against himself. Clearly Geralt had guessed correctly.

Geralt stroked his hair. “Tell me about your health,” he said. “What do I need to know to keep you healthy?”

“I’m a normal Omega-” the boy began quickly.

“I’ve never had an Omega.” Geralt tilted his head. “Tell me what you want me to know. You should be an expert on the subject, after all.”

The boy shifted nervously, his eyes flicking around the room. “I- I-”

Geralt decided to help him out a bit. “When was your first heat?”

“I was thirteen.”

“How did you handle it? Did you have a partner?”

The Omega shook his head. “I was given a toy to appease myself.”

“A toy?”

“Like the one master gave you.”

Thinking back on the large dildo he’d had shoved at him, Geralt said, “Oh. Did it feel good?”

The boy’s shoulders curled inward and he chewed at the nail on his thumb. “It helped,” he whispered.

“But it’s not the same as being with an Alpha?”

“No.”

“How?”

The Omega shifted, reaching between his legs to adjust the waterskin. “I feel cold, when I’m alone,” he explained. “When I’m with an Alpha I feel warm and comfortable.”

“Is it because of physical contact or something else?”

“Scent and contact.” The Omega was watching him warily, clever blue eyes staring up at Geralt as though waiting for something horrid.

“I’m not-” Geralt sighed. “I’m not planning anything, I’m only curious.”

The Omega pursed his lips, then once again looked away. “My first heat with a master was when I was twenty. That’s when I was pregnant with my first baby.” He looked away and Geralt could tell the other baby was a sore spot. As much as he’d like to learn more, he decided not to push it. Not just yet, not when the boy was still terrified of him.

“What are heats like? In general?”

“Fun.” The Omega’s lips pulled up in the slightest of smiles, but he quickly hid it. “I mean-”

“You enjoy being in heat?”

“Yes, when I was at Oxenfurt-” He cut himself off, biting on his thumb nervously. 

Geralt raised an eyebrow. “You went to Oxenfurt?”

“I uh-” He curled his shoulders in, looking around wildly as though planning an escape.

“There’s nothing wrong with that, it’s a fine school. I was surprised is all.”

“Breeding slaves aren’t supposed to read,” whispered the Omega.

Geralt shrugged. “I don’t mind,” he said quietly. “Truly, Julian, I don’t mind.”

The boy tilted his head. “You don’t?” he repeated suspiciously.

“Why would I?”

“Breeding slaves aren’t-”

“And Witchers aren’t supposed to buy slaves.” Geralt shrugged. “Or, we don’t usually, there’s no rule against it.”

The Omega nodded.

“Even if there were a rule against it, I don’t mind you reading. It’s certainly preferable to you being dumb and uneducated.” He reached for another wineskin, filling it with warm water, and trading it out for the one the Omega had been cradling to his genitals.

“I’m going out,” Geralt said quietly. “Stay here.”

“Alone?” The boy’s eyes flicked to the door nervously.

“I won’t be but a few minutes,” Geralt promised. “And I won’t be far. If you shout I _will_ hear you. I promise.”

The boy still wasn’t happy, Geralt could smell his displeasure, but he nodded, pulling his knees up to his chest and curling on the bed.

Geralt stepped out of the inn, walking to the market he’d seen next door. He didn’t want to go wasting coin - not when he’d need to budget for the Omega and (possibly) his child - but there were supplies he would need.

He found a small apothecary, purchasing herbs to treat inflammation and muscle soreness. Once he told the shopkeeper that he was taking care of a pregnant Omega she was happy to give him a list of advice.

Unfortunately, a lot of it was was contrary to what Julian had said.

“Why would I put a toy in his hole if he’s not in heat?”

“Omegas enjoy it,” she explained. “It keeps them grounded and is a pleasant reminder of their place.”

“And it’s not dangerous?”

“No,” she promised cheerfully, putting Geralt’s purchases into a paper bag. “It won’t hurt the babe at all.”

There was other advice, including telling him that the Omega should eat the baby’s placenta when it was born, and that raw meat would help him during his pregnancy. Some of it almost made sense. Some of it made no sense at all, but he supposed she knew better than he did.

When she heard he’d let the boy sleep in his bed, she was shocked. “Put him on a cot,” she said, shaking her head. “The firm ground will do him good.”

Geralt thanked her and filed the information away as something he’d have to consider.

“Bring him by before you leave,” she said as he ducked out the door. “I’ll check the baby’s health.” He promised that he would.

The last thing he did was find clothing for the boy. He picked things that would be warm, but fit him loosely, so he they wouldn’t hurt his growing belly. Rather than purchasing shoes, since he didn’t know the Omega’s size, he selected thick, woolen socks.


	4. Chapter 4

The Omega was sitting up on the bed when Geralt entered the room. “Are you feeling better?” he asked.

The boy nodded.

“No more cramps?”

“No sir.”

Geralt narrowed his eyes.

“A few,” the Omega mumbled.

Geralt shook his head. “You know better than to lie to me.” He sighed. He’d bent the rules enough for the boy, if he didn’t start enforcing some of the rules he’d made then the boy would never obey him. “Stand up.”

The Omega struggled to stand, Geralt finally reached out to help him, supporting him by his waist and gently turning him over the edge of the bed. He made him prop himself up on his arms, so that his belly wouldn’t press against the bed, afraid of hurting his baby.

Then Geralt landed two sharp slaps, one on each of his ass cheeks, before helping him to stand back up.

“That’s enough,” he promised. “Now come on, we’ve got to go.”

“Go?” The Omega asked worriedly. “Go where?”

“Looking for another contract.” Geralt tossed the clothes he’d purchased and a bit of dried meat at the boy. “Put these on. And eat that.”

“I’m allowed to wear clothes?”

“It’s winter,” he said softly. When the Omega still didn’t move, Geralt asked, “Why wouldn’t you wear clothes?”

The boy shifted uneasily, looking down at the clothes in his hands. “In case you wanted to touch me. Or _look_ at me.”

“Do you want frostbite on your cock?” Geralt snorted, taking the clothes back and kneeling in front of the man. He helped him to step into the trousers, one foot at a time, and pulled them up. The Omega ate slowly as he dressed him, seeming to savor the taste of the meat.

When Geralt reached for a belt, the boy flinched.

“You said a switch or your hand-”

“You’re going to wear it,” he said impatiently.

“Oh.”

He threaded the belt through the pants carefully, pulling it just snug enough to hold the pants in place. “Is this too snug?”

“No.”

“Look at me. If it becomes uncomfortable, you are free to adjust it. Understand?”

“Yes. Thank you, Geralt.”

Next Geralt pulled the shirt over his head, tucking it carefully into the waist of the pants. It fell loosely around him, and disguised his pregnant belly somewhat. Unless you were an Alpha, and able to smell him, he’d just look a bit plump.

He picked him up and sat him on the edge of the bed, picking up the socks he’d purchased. Just from looking at him it was clear his ankles were swollen, and Geralt took a moment to rub at the joints, prompting a pleased moan from the Omega. He founding himself saying, “If we stop at an inn tonight I’ll heat a bucket of water for your feet.”

Geralt still hadn’t decided what he was going to do. He had just left Kaer Morhen, where he’d spent the worst of the winter, and while he certainly could take the boy back, it seemed like too much of a risk. The trail was narrow and dangerous, there were parts that couldn’t be ridden safely, and the Omega could barely walk. Such a trek would kill him.

So he would just have to move on, pick up contracts, and try to find safe place for the boy while he was doing his job.

Geralt gathered their things and carried them to Roach, then went back upstairs to pick up Julian. It was a short walk to the apothecary, but he want him to get his new socks wet or dirty.

“What’s this?” the shopkeeper asked. “What’s he wearing?”

“Clothes,” grunted Geralt as the Omega’s shoulders curled inward.

“He needs a collar,” she said firmly.

“Master gave you one with your payment,” the Omega mumbled.

“I’ll collar him later,” Geralt said, resting his hand on the boy’s shoulder.

She made him strip out of his new clothing, which he clung to fiercely until Geralt gently took it from him. Without saying a word to the Omega bent him over a table, and pushed two fingers in his ass.

“You’ve got to loosen up, boy,” she said. “What if this was your master’s cock?”

“I’m sorry,” he whimpered. Geralt could smell his fear. _I know he’s unhappy, but it’s for his own good, I need to know if he’s healthy or not_ , he told himself firmly.

Removing her fingers from his ass she poked and prodded at his genitals, her frown deepening at the red and swollen flesh. She pinched his balls and he squeaked.

The door opened and another customer walked in. For a moment the man seemed interested in the Omega, stepping closer to get a better look at his exposed body, but once he saw Geralt, he quickly backed away, going to look at the wares on the other side of the shop.

_Good_ , thought Geralt.

Finally she stood, leaving the Omega bent over the table.

“Well?” Geralt asked.

“He needs to gain weight,” she said. Her hand still rested on his backside, her thumb ghosting over his hole. “Three meals a day, no less. If he pukes, he licks it up.”

Geralt nodded slowly. _I’ve done that_ , he thought, _it’s not ideal, but when you’re low on coin and nutrients to begin with, there’s not many options_. But it still seemed unnecessarily cruel, so he filed it away as a last resort.

“If he were mine, I’d have him circumsised and perhaps castrated, but it would be too dangerous to do until after the babe is born.”

Another nod, he wasn’t certain what there was to say. _It seems harsh, but she must know best_.

“Give me that toy you mentioned. And the collar”

Geralt had to go back outside to Roach to fetch the requested items. “Yes, I know,” he murmured to his mare. “You don’t this town, do you?”

The mare nickered and flicked her head.

He scratched her chin and ducked back inside. The shopkeeper was speaking to the Omega quietly, her hand firmly clamped on the back of his neck.

Geralt cocked his head curiously as he held out the toy.

“Omegas have a bundle of nerves on the back of their neck. If you grab it they’ll loose control of their muscles. It will make penetrating him easier.”

She poured a tiny bit of oil over the toy, then lined it up with his hole, pressing it slowly inside. There was absolutely no resistance from the boy, but Geralt could tell his breathing had quickened and a sharp stab of pain entered his scent.

“I thought Omegas produced slick,” said Geralt.

“Some produce less when they’re pregnant,” she explained, releasing his neck. “This one seems to be one of the unlucky ones.”

“I’m sorry,” murmured the Omega.

Without thinking, Geralt rested his hand on his back, hoping to convey some sort of sympathy.

“Get your clothes back on, then,” said the apothecary sharply.

Without Geralt’s help the boy was slow and sluggish to redress himself, having to sit on the floor to struggle into his pants and socks.

“You had best put the collar on him yourself, so he knows who he belongs to.”

Geralt knelt beside him, tapping his finger on the underside of the boy’s chin. “Lift up,” he said. The boy only stared at him blankly.

“Boy, unless you want your master to use a red cream then you’d better do as he says.”

Quickly the Omega lifted his head, exposing his narrow throat for Geralt to wrap the collar around, slipping the buckles into place.

“What’s a red cream?”

She raised an eyebrow. “You weren’t the one to put it on him?”

“I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“The inflammation in his genitals,” she explained. “You apply a red cream and creates a rash. Harmless in the long run, but painful. The sooner it’s washed off the sooner the inflammation will fade.” To the Omega she asked, “How long was yours left on, you?”

“An hour,” he whispered.

Even the healer looked a bit sympathetic at that. “I’d never leave it more than fifteen minutes myself.” 

“It’s harmless?” Geralt asked, pushing himself to his feet.

The healer nodded. “It won’t leave any lasting damage once it fades, and once it’s washed off you can fuck him without hurting yourself.”

He glanced at the Omega again, remembering the smacks he’d given him that morning, how worried he’d been about harming the boy. _The cream would be safer than a spanking, I’d be less likely to hurt his belly. I wouldn’t leave it on for more than a few minutes, though. I also think I would like to see how it works. Would it affect a Witcher, or does it only harm humans? For that matter, does it only affect Omegas?_

“I’d like a small jar of it,” he said.

She sold him the red cream along with another salve that she said would speed the healing process, given how badly inflamed he was from his previous punishment. As the healer went to take care of her other customer, Geralt knelt on the floor of the shop next to the Omega, who was still curled in on himself.

He carefully pulled his pants down, just enough to slip his hand inside, and rubbed the healing salve over his rashes. “Does that feel better, Julian?”

“Yes sir.”

“Geralt,” he said firmly.

“Thank you, Geralt.”

He nodded and then helped the boy to pull his pants back up, then helped him out to where Roach was still waiting for them. Geralt lifted the boy into the saddle, offered him a bit more dried meat to chew on, and then led the mare out of town.

If they made good time, there was another town they could spend the night in.


	5. Chapter 5

Geralt didn’t know what to do with him. He was too weak to walk, but riding in the saddle brought tears to his eyes from the friction on his groin. He’d tried valiantly, hiding his discomfort from Geralt for nearly an hour before he’d suddenly burst into tears in the middle of the trail.

“Julian?”

“Hurts! Please! Hurts!”

Geralt stopped Roach, then gently eased the boy out of the saddle, lowering him gently to the ground. He pulled his trousers down to his knees and inspected his genitals, finding them as inflamed as they had been before he’d treated them. The Omega tried to shrink away, but Geralt held him by his ankle as he fished in the saddlebag, getting out one of the ointments he’d bought.

“I’m sorry.”

“Its fine,” he said curtly. He dipped his fingers in the ointment, then reached out and carefully applied it to the boy’s swollen skin, rubbing it over him as gently as he could.

The boy pulled his pants up as soon as Geralt had finished treated him, and pulled his knees back to his chest. Rubbing his hand over his face, Geralt debated what he should do.

“I can walk-”

“No, you can’t.”

“I can-”

“You can be quiet,” Geralt said. “That’s what I want from you right now.” He couldn’t think with the boy’s constant chattering, couldn’t make any plans for how he was going to keep moving.

Something grabbed his shirt. Geralt glanced down in surprise to find the Omega pulling at the front of his trousers. Before the Witcher could stop him he had Geralt’s cock out and was leaning forward to take it into his mouth. “Stop that!”

The boy froze.

“I’ve told you, I don’t want to have sex with you.” Geralt stepped back and pulled his pants up, giving the boy an irritated glance.

“Then what do you want?” Tears dripped down his cheeks. “You don’t want my ass, you don’t want my mouth, you- you claim that you don’t want my baby-”

He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “I will be honest with you.”

“ _Please-_ ”

“I’ve never seen a pregnant Omega before, I’ve only ever seen two Omegas in my life and you’re the first I’ve ever touched. I’m… curious about you is all. It’s not dangerous, I assure you. I intend you no ill will.”

The boy stared at him. “Curious,” he repeated.

“Mhm,” agreed Geralt. “Curious.”

* * *

He bribed the Omega to get back into the saddle, promising him that when they reached the next town he’d order a warm bath for him. With Geralt’s spare cloak folded and draped over the saddle to pad him he less pained than before. He walked beside him with his hand on his leg, hoping the touch might bring him some kind of comfort.

They had to move slowly, and unfortunately didn’t make it to town that night. Dusk began falling and they were still well outside the city limits. Geralt sighed and rubbed Roach’s nose. “I suppose we’ll have to make camp out here.”

He found a sheltered area in a copse of trees to make camp. The branches had prevented the snow from falling all the way, so the ground was bare and dry. Lifting the Omega down from Roach’s back he sat him at the base of a tree, then untacked Roach and allowed her to graze as he started a fire. The boy was nearly asleep before Geralt returned to his side, carefully gathering him up and moving him closer to the fire.

“Here,” he said gently. “Let me warm you up.” He loosened the ties of his coat and pulled the boy to his chest, letting his cloak wrap around them both. With a whimper the boy nuzzled into him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to slow you down.”

“Its fine,” Geralt grumbled. He rested his hand on the Omega’s belly, rubbing it gently.

“Do you like my baby?” the boy whispered, looking up at him.

He seemed to be seeking some sort of validation, so Geralt offered him a smile. “I like your baby.”

The boy almost seemed to smile, blinking and tiling his head. “And my belly?”

Geralt chuckled and patted him. “And your belly.” There was something not quite right with the way he talked. Sometimes he seemed almost juvenile. 

The Omega swallowed. “Do- do you like my hole?”

Oh. That was where he’d been leading Geralt with his questions. He sighed. “I- I don’t intend to use it.”

The Omega looked away. “It hurts,” he said finally.

“Your hole?”

“The toy.”

Geralt had entirely forgotten about it. “Oh,” he said slowly. “Let me take it out for a while.”

“Thank you.”

He pushed him gently onto his hands and knees, then pulled down his pants, rubbing his hand gently over the boy’s bottom. A shiver ran through him. Carefully Geralt grasped the end of the toy, easing it back out of him. “Let me know when you want it back,” he said, wiping it clean with a cloth and then putting it away.

“Yes sir.”

The Omega made to get up but Geralt stroked his back, pushing gently to hold him in place. “Stay there,” he said, reaching for his bag. He grabbed the salve he’d put on him earlier, scooping a bit onto his fingers and rubbing it carefully over his tender skin. When Geralt had finished the boy limped away to relieve himself in the woods.

He seemed to be moving better than when Geralt had found him. Perhaps it was because he was finally getting three meals a day. Perhaps it was the ointments Geralt had been using on him.

_Hopefully he starts to fill out soon,_ Geralt thought. _He’s practically skeletal as it is, which can’t be good for him or the baby_.

He sat with Geralt as they ate, chewing miserably through the dried rations Geralt gave him, then turning and tucking himself into Geralt’s arms and whining that he was cold.

“Shh,” he said. “Go to sleep, Julian. I’ll keep you warm.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I know anything about birth? No. But thankfully, neither does this fucking terrible doctor.

Julian asked him to put the toy back in him the next morning. “It makes me feel better,” he said, looking away from Geralt as though he was embarrassed by the admission.

Geralt thanked him for being honest and inserted the toy before swinging him into the saddle. “We shouldn’t be far,” he promised. “And then you’ll get that bath.”

The Omega smiled.

The town they found was larger than the one they’d left, almost what Geralt would consider a city. Soon he had a contract lined up on a drowner nest in the sewers with promise of a place for himself and the Omega at the inn.

He dropped the boy off, the innkeeper swearing to keep a personal eye on him so that no one would touch him, then went to scope out the drowners.

It was too late in the day to take care of them that night, so he located the easiest way into the sewers, made a mental note of it, and then headed back to the inn.

On his way he passed a doctor’s office. It seemed far more reputable than the healer he’d taken the Omega to the day before, so he stopped in to talk to the man.

He was brimming with knowledge and more than happy to offer advice, even parading out his own Omega, a shy boy of nineteen summers, to answer Geralt’s questions while he nursed his son.

“What about cramps?” Geralt asked him. “All that seems to help is hot water in a wineskin.”

“Master did that for me,” whispered the Omega, cradling the baby in his arms. “He was very kind.” He seemed scared, but Geralt couldn’t blame him, most people were scared of Witchers, after all.

“Tell Master Rivia what did you the most good,” urged the doctor.

“Master would put me over his knee and finger my hole,” said the boy, his eyes glued on his infant.

“He said penetration hurts,” argued Geralt, frowning.

“It does,” whispered the Omega quietly.

“It certainly will at first,” interjected the doctor. “But once the orgasm takes over it relaxes the muscles.” He held out his arms for the infant. “Give me my son and show Master Rivia what to do.”

The boy seemed unwilling to hand the baby over, but finally he did, and nervously stepped toward Geralt. “Sir, if you would please consider sitting down-”

Geralt dropped onto a chair.

The Omega knelt beside him, then carefully bent over and Geralt found himself touching an Omega for the second time in his life. “Spread your knees so that my belly is between them,” said the Omega quietly.

The doctor cleared his throat.

“If it pleases you, sir.”

Geralt widened his knees, letting the boy adjust himself until his stomach - although no longer round with child - hung in the empty space between Geralt’s legs. His shoulders and hips pressed into Geralt’s legs and he turned his head to stare up at him.

“Like this sir,” he said.

“So I hold him like this and-” Geralt waved his hand at the Omega’s (thankfully clothed) backside.

“Yes,” said the doctor. “My boy would often suck my cock when I’d finished because of how much it delighted him.”

“Master is very kind to me,” said the Omega, pushing himself up and returning to the doctor, holding out his hands for the baby. “May I nurse your son, sir?”

He was nearly as timid as Julian, although Geralt couldn’t imagine how upsetting it must be to be forced to lay over a Witcher’s lap. _Poor thing_ , he thought.

The doctor handed the baby over with a curt nod.

“Why not on his back?” Geralt asked curiously. “Wouldn’t that be easiest?”

“Having their belly hang like that will loosen the strain on their back,” explained the doctor.

Geralt talked with them a while longer, mostly asking questions about what to expect during birth.

The Omega perked up for the first time, his eyes gleaming. “Master held me and rubbed my tummy while I labored,” he explained. “It felt amazing.”

The doctor chuckled. “Such a sentimental thing you are. Show Master Rivia the position.”

The Omega handed the baby over again, then knelt down on all fours. The doctor laid the baby carefully in a cradle, then crouched beside him, wrapping one over his back and around to cradle his belly.

“He will have contractions for hours,” explained the doctor. “He should remain on his knees until the babe is close to crowning.”

Geralt nodded slowly. “What then?”

The doctor turned the Omega over, laying him on his back. He showed Geralt how to lift his knees, how best to position his legs.

“Once the babe is born he should nurse it. Then you should gather up the placenta and the remains of his birth canal and feed it to him. He won’t like it, but it is for the best.”

Released by the doctor the Omega scurried away, gathering his son up again and pulling him into his arms and sitting in a chair. “Has his milk started?”

“Yes.”

“Boy!”

The Omega lowered his son into his lap wordlessly, and remained sitting as the doctor approached him. He showed Geralt how to touch his breasts, how to ease milk out of him. “You may drink it,” the man said. “Or gather it into a glass and feed it to him.”

“Is there a benefit to… this?”

The Omega shook his head, but the doctor gave him a patronizing look. “Tell the truth.”

“It prevents the milk from drying up,” said the Omega quietly.

Geralt thanked them and left. He felt better, after having gotten a second opinion on what he was doing. After the baby was born he would figure out what to do about the Omega’s evident terror of everything and everyone, but until then, he would worry about his physical wellbeing.

He found Julian with the innkeeper, tied to a chair. “Turned my back on him for just a second and he tried to run off,” the man explained.

Geralt grit his teeth and thanked the man for his trouble, then pulled his wayward Omega upstairs to their room, pushing him on to the bed and then standing back, folding his arms over his chest. “Explain.”

He studied his toes. “I’m sorry.”

“I want to know why you did it. Did someone touch you against your will?” The innkeeper seemed nice, but there was always the possibility that Geralt was wrong about him and that he’d hurt the Omega.

But the Omega shook his head. “No, sir.” He smelled truthful, which calmed Geralt’s worry a bit.

“Then why?”

He rested his hands on his belly, looking down at his toes. “I didn’t like his smell.”

Geralt pinched the bridge of his nose. “Julian, sneaking off could get you hurt, you understand that, don’t you? You could have been raped or killed.”

“Are you going to switch me?” Julian whispered, rubbing his belly. “Or use the red cream…”

Geralt stared at him, considering. It made him feel guilty to admit, even to himself, but he’d been dying to use the red cream on the Omega since he’d first gotten it. He wanted to know how it worked, what it might do to the young man and if it would have the same effect on a Witcher.

But the boy was already close to tears. If Geralt did any more to him… there was no telling what he would do. And he’d had a rough day, not complaining at all about having to ride all morning. Not to mention how he kept rubbing his belly and wincing as he waited for Geralt to make a decision.

“Cramps?” guessed Geralt, reaching out and placing his hand on the boy’s belly.

“Yes, sir.”

He nodded, making up his mind. “Sit on the bed.”

The Omega sat.

Geralt crouched in front of him, their eyes level. “If you wander off again I will discipline you,” he said firmly. “But I will let it pass this time.”

“Why?” whispered Julian.

“You were good for me this morning,” Geralt explained, rubbing his knee. “I know the ride was unpleasant and I should have given you something for the pain before leaving you.”

He wiped his nose and nodded. “Thank you, sir.” A shiver ran through his body.

“Bad cramps?” Geralt rested his hand on the boy’s stomach. “Come on, I’ll call for your bath. I spoke with a doctor and he knew a way to help.”

The boy’s face lit up. Geralt helped him to his feet and he was able to walk, mostly by himself. Even a few days of proper meals seemed to have made a world of difference.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey who asked for Julian’s POV??? Just me? Oh well, have it anyway.

When Geralt put his fingers in his ass and called it medicine, Julian wanted to cry. He wanted to scream and rage and tell him that the doctor was a liar, that it wasn’t going to help his cramps, that his belly was still going to hurt after he orgasmed.

Laying over Geralt’s lap, trying not to cry as the man fingered him, Julian was certain of two things: that he hated Geralt more than he’d ever hated anyone, and Geralt wanted his baby.

Perhaps he wasn’t able to admit it, even to himself, but Julian knew, knew deep down that the Witcher was already obsessed with his baby and his stupid, worthless, fat belly that hurt when he moved. 

Which meant that, when he realized he was never going to get the baby, he would have a Witcher sized temper tantrum.

Sure Geralt pretended to be nice, pretended to care about him as more than just a uterus, but the stupid toy Geralt continued to put in his ass proved that to be wrong. It was sitting on the table beside the bath, probably waiting to be put back in him once Julian was cleaned. Why Geralt bothered to pretend it was the herbalist’s idea was beyond him, if the man wanted to shove a dildo up his butt and make Julian thank him for it, he could have just said so.

Julian came with a sob and Geralt’s fingers finally withdrew from his poor, aching hole. The Witcher rubbed his back, sounding almost excited as he asked if he felt better.

“Yes,” lied Julian. “Thank you Geralt.”

_This is how it starts_. _He’ll work me up from here. First his fingers, then he’ll touch my cock, then he’ll say, ‘maybe a bit of cum will soften you up.’ He’ll start by cumming on me, working it in with his fingers, and when that doesn’t work he’ll say, ‘i know, Julian, let’s try it in your ass this time, won’t that feel better?’_

_I hate him._

He let Geralt carry him to the tub, sinking him into the warm water. It soothed his aches more than Geralt’s stupid fingers ever would, so he smiled and thanked Geralt again.

The Witcher smiled and Julian hated him a bit more.

Geralt must really want his baby.

Geralt was going to beat him bloody when he couldn’t have it.

Julian wondered if he even realized how much he touched the Omega’s belly, or if he knew Julian could see through his veneer of kindness. He wondered if he cared that Julian knew he was a fraud.

He hated him so much, because he had thought he was different. When Geralt had first touched him, in the backroom of the slaver’s shop, he’d almost been tricked, almost fallen for the Witcher’s lies. Almost believed he was kind.

He had thought Geralt was just lonely, then he’d thought that maybe he was just stupid. But when Geralt had fucked him on his fingers he had known: Geralt was an Alpha, just like the rest of them.

And then Geralt had played his hand, had said, “I’ll buy you a potion for an abortion” and Julian had realized he was full of shit, because no one who rubbed an Omega’s belly as much as Geralt did would ever willing buy an abortifacient.

_He’ll want me pregnant all the time, so he can touch my stupid fat belly and put his fingers in me and call it medicine. If he is infertile, as he claims, he’ll whore me out, perhaps he’ll even want to watch._

_Then he’ll hold my legs apart and watch cum drip out of me, just like he did before, and he’ll say, ‘oh Julian, let me clean you up’ and he’ll put his horrible, Witcher fingers inside me again and say ‘what a good little boy you are, letting that Alpha fill you with pups for me.’_

_He’ll rub my bum until my belly gets fat, then he’ll resume his fixation with that until its flat time to whore me out again. One day, I’ll bleed out and he’ll probably eat whatever’s left of me, or cut me open and see what I look like inside._

Geralt had stepped away for a moment, cleaning Julian’s cum up from the floor, but he came back, sitting on a stool beside the bath and asking, “Do you need help?”

Julian smiled and said yes.

He closed his eyes as Geralt washed him, trying to make himself enjoy the sensation. He might as well, it was going to happen either way.

Geralt started with his face, then his neck, then down his arms. Geralt talked as he washed him, telling him other facts that the doctor had mentioned. Explaining how the doctor’s Omega - because apparently, Geralt hadn’t thought to ask for his name - had mentioned that some Omegas needed to have their breasts rubbed to increase milk production or to prevent them from hurting.

But he didn’t touch Julian, instead asking, “Do you think that would help?”

_Get it over with, you pervert_ , thought Julian bitterly. But, because he was hungry, and there was venison stew downstairs, he smiled at Geralt and said, “Yes.”

He wanted to die.

Geralt laid the cloth aside, then gently pushed his fingers on either side of his nipple. A bit of milk squirted out and Julian squeezed his eyes shut.

He wanted to sink under the water and drown himself.

Geralt repeated the process on the other side, then patted Julian’s shoulder. “Feel better?”

“Much,” he lied. At least Geralt hadn’t used his mouth. He wasn’t certain he was ready to pretend to enjoy that.

Geralt smiled and picked up the cloth again, resuming bathing him.

_So now my days will include a milking, a mandatory orgasm, and that god damn toy. What a fun life I live. And if I dare to complain or look uncomfortable he’ll rub red cream onto my ass and then make me cut him a switch, all the while pretending he doesn’t want to and that it’s for my own good._

Geralt washed his belly with more care than he had the rest of him, rubbing the soapy cloth over him slowly, almost seeming transfixed. “My baby likes you,” Julian whispered, forcing himself to give Geralt an adoring gaze.

“Your baby doesn’t have to,” Geralt said. “Your baby just needs to be healthy, that’s all they need to worry about.”

“Healthy baby in my healthy fat belly.” Because gods above, Geralt seemed to like his stupid baby talk that he’d learned from his first master, who had babbled at Julian as though he was a child even when he’d been pregnant himself.

Geralt nodded. “It’s getting fatter now that you’re eating properly.”

_Oh shit. That’s his game is it? He’s one of those Alphas who wants to overfeed me until I’m fat and soft and squishy. Gods damn me_.

But he smiled, taking Geralt’s hand pressing it into his belly. “It’s a good baby, isn’t it?”

“Very good,” promised Geralt. “Just like their father.”

Geralt was surprisingly careful when he washed between Julian’s legs, and he didn’t take the opportunity to grope him, which was a pleasant surprise. But when he started to rub Julian’s feet, he didn’t know what to do. No one had ever rubbed his feet before, but Geralt kneaded at the joints in his foot and rolled his ankles carefully and the moan of pleasure that spilled from his lips wasn’t faked at all.

“You set your ankles were sore,” said Geralt. “I thought this might help.”

Julian nearly melted into the bath, nodding. _This is how you should treat an Omega,_ he wanted to say. _Don’t touch my hole or my belly, just rub my feet and let me eat that venison stew I smelled earlier._

But he didn’t say anything, because if he ruined Geralt’s fantasy world he wouldn’t get any stew and he’d probably have to sleep on the floor. So he just leaned back and hoped the Witcher would keep rubbing his feet a bit longer and allowed himself to enjoy the warm water.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> None of ya’ll picked up on the bombshell from Jules last chapter. Shame.

Julian was crying.

Again.

Geralt rubbed his ears, biting back a growl. He’d put the boy to bed after supper then knelt down to meditate. All had been well for most of the night, but not long before sunrise was when the crying started. Geralt took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down, to not snap at the boy or scold him for disturbing him.

 _It’s not his fault_ , he reminded himself. _He’s in pain and living with a monster_. Once he’d grounded himself he pushed himself to his feet, taking a step closer to the bed. A floorboard creaked.

The Omega jumped, rolling over and staring up at Geralt with frightened eyes.

“Are you hurting?” Geralt asked.

The boy didn’t move. For a moment, he almost didn’t seem to breath. “No?”

Geralt took another step. The Omega pulled back, nearly falling off the back of the bed. “Why are you crying?”

“I- I don’t know.”

Geralt sat on the side of the bed, gently pulling him closer. “I can smell that you’re in pain,” he said finally. The Omega’s scent was unlike anything Geralt was used to, he was only just starting to learn what the different spikes meant. Pain and fear were almost constant - again, not entirely surprising - which made it harder to pick out anything else.

“I’m sorry for lying.”

“It’s alright,” Geralt said, rubbing his shoulder gently. “Tell me what hurts.”

"Tummy," mumbled the Omega, looking everywhere but at Geralt. “Hot water? For my cramps?”

“You want hot water?”

The Omega nodded. “My baby likes it,” he whispered.

Geralt smiled. “Good.”

It didn’t take long to have a water skin filled with hot water for Julian, and he carried it back to the bed, sitting beside Julian and putting it between his legs, letting the boy shift it and put it where he wanted. Absentmindedly, Geralt began to rub his belly.

“Does this help?” he asked. The boy usually seemed alright with Geralt touching his stomach - which the Witcher appreciated, since it let him indulge his curiosity - but he certainly didn’t want to continue if it was upsetting or harming him. 

He gave him a tiny smile. “Belly loves rubbing,” he cooed. “Alpha rub belly.”

 _Gods what a strange man_ , thought Geralt, continuing to gently rub at his swollen belly. It wasn’t soft like fat, but rather firm and unyielding to the touch. _I don’t know why he talks like that, but it seems to help him. Does he want me to try it?_ Feeling somewhat ridiculous, Geralt repeated, “Alpha rub belly.”

The boy wiggled under him, closing his eyes. “Omega good for Alpha?” he whispered. At least he had stopped crying. Whatever Geralt was doing - whatever this strange babbling was - it seemed to have settled him down. "Julian good boy?"

“Omega is very good,” Geralt promised. Vaguely he wondered what Eskel and Lambert would say if they could hear him. They’d never let him live it down, that much was certain. “Julian is-” he pursed his lips, trying to think of the best way to soothe the Omega. “Julian is perfect for Geralt.”

“Alpha rub belly,” mumbled Julian, wiggling around again, reaching out to hold Geralt's hand flat against his stomach. “Fat happy belly…. Alpha rub tummy… Alpha rub… bum?”

“Bum?” Geralt repeated stupidly.

Julian whined. “Alpha rub bum,” he said, wrapping his fingers around Geralt’s hand. “Alpha not hit bum. Bum for Alpha to rub.”

Geralt forced himself to think over the Omega’s words. _I think… I think he’s afraid of getting a spanking and is… what? Trying to bribe me with his ‘bum’? Or is something to do with sex? Does he want me to fuck him on my fingers again? Or does he truly want me to pet his ass?_

Slowly Geralt asked, “Alpha rub bum how?”

“Good bum!” trilled the Omega. “Alpha rub good bum. Alpha hit bad bum.” He shivered. “Bum good?”

Geralt had absolutely no idea what the boy wanted. He wasn’t about to start making guesses, when the boy was clearly delirious, so instead he said, “Does Omega want fingers in his bum?”

“Omega wants rubbed bum.”

“Does Omega want… ointment on his bum?”

“Alpha rub bum. Omega good for Alpha.”

Geralt sighed. He really didn’t want to take chances guessing at what the boy was rambling about. “Alpha will rub Omega’s belly,” he said, giving him a firm pat. “Not bum.” 

The Omega nodded. “Alpha rub belly,” he mewled. “Stupid, fat belly.”

“Don’t call yourself stupid,” Geralt scolded. “You went to Oxenfurt, Julian. You’re not stupid.” He wasn't stupid at all, Geralt had already figured that from the few conversations they'd had. He was just... weird.

“Julian’s sorry,” he whispered, tears welled up in his eyes. Geralt patted him gently.

“Julian’s a good boy,” Geralt promised. “Julian’s very good for me and he’s very clever. Don’t cry Julian.” He gently rubbed away Julian’s tears with his thumb.

“Alpha keep Julian?”

 _Is that it? Is he afraid I’m going to abandon him?_ “Yes, Julian. Alpha will keep you.”

“How long Julian stay?”

“As long as he would like,” Geralt promised.

“And baby?”

“Yes Julian. And your baby.” He patted his stomach gently. “Julian can travel with me on the path in the summer, and next winter, Julian and his baby can to go Kaer Morhen with me.”

“Kaer Morhen?”

“The home of the Witchers,” Geralt explained. “My… family. They will like Julian.”

The Omega blinked up at him. “Julian… Julian like Witchers. Julian hear about Witchers?”

“Vesemir, Eskel, and Lambert,” Geralt said quietly. “Vesemir is… he’s like my father. He can be strict, but I don’t doubt you’ll win him over. Eskel is very friendly, you’ll like him. Lambert- Lambert’s a prick.” Geralt laughed. “Julian and his baby will be safe there.”

Geralt pulled the blankets up over him. “Julian needs to eat breakfast,” he said softly. “Julian needs to get fat.” He was still, despite Geralt’s best efforts, practically skeletal.

 _It’s alright_ , Geralt promised himself. _Its only been a few days. He’ll be up to a healthy weight soon._

“Happy, fat Omega,” purred the boy.

“Yes,” he promised. “Happy Julian.”

* * *

As Geralt went to fetch their breakfast, Julian laid in bed and stared at the ceiling. _That’s why he wanted me_ , he thought numbly. _I’m not just Geralt’s toy, I’m the toy of all the Witchers in Kaer Morhen._

Julian shivered, wrapping his arms around himself.

He hoped Winter never came, that it stayed summer forever, so he wouldn’t have to lay down and let a whole line of monster hunters pound his ass. _Will they all claim it’s for the best like Geralt?_ He wondered. _No, probably not._

Vesemir was strict, which meant he would probably take to ‘discipling’ Julian for every tiny infraction. That was fine. Julian had met Alphas like that before. All he had to do was make certain to make enough small mistakes that the man could give him small punishments often, rather than larger mistakes which would lead to more pent up energy and more torment.

Eskel, the ‘friendly’ one, he imagined would be more like Geralt, wanting to believe that Julian wanted it. Perhaps they’d do it together, one holding him in their arms and rubbing his back while the other pounded his ass. Then they’d hold him, bathe him, and feed him until his stomach hurt.

And Lambert…. Julian shivered. He didn’t want to know what someone who was described as a ‘prick’ would do to a helpless Omega.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you have started figuring out what’s really going on with Jules and I’m so excited.

Geralt took care of the city’s drowner problem, then they headed out again the next day. The Omega seemed more at home on Roach than he had before. Geralt attributed his new found comfort to the salves he’d been rubbing into him and the two days he’d spent in bed, resting.

He hadn’t asked Geralt to finger him anymore, or milk him, and Geralt was just as happy about that. But he had asked for the toy, and clenched around it after Geralt inserted it, whining and wiggling and squealing about what a good hole he had and how nice Geralt was to fill it for him.

Geralt still coudln’t figure out the baby talk. There seemed to be no good point to it, Julian just liked rambling on. _Is it an Omega thing or just him?_ he wondered. _Perhaps it’s the trauma of loosing his first baby, being sold, and then impregnated again._ He’d have to think more about it later.

The Omega looked around cheerfully as Roach ambled along. Geralt walked beside him, his hand on the boy’s leg. “It’s a nice day,” Geralt said quietly. The sun had broken through the trees, warming them both and beginning to melt the snow.

He nodded. “I like spring,” he said softly. “And summer.”

“If you’re fourth months along, you’ll have a summer baby,” Geralt said. He’d stopped talking about abortion, Julian didn’t seem interested, just yammering about how good his baby was.

“I like flowers,” he said quietly. “I’d like to give birth in a field of flowers.”

Geralt was surprised. “Not in a bed?”

“Can’t get blood on the sheets,” he mumbled.

“Don’t worry about that,” Geralt soothed. “I’ll pay for a blanket for you to birth on, if I must. You deserve to be comfortable.”

Julian looked down at him in surprise. “Comfortable?”

“Childbirth is painful, Julian,” Geralt said, rubbing his leg. “I don’t want you to suffer needless, just to save a few coins.”

“You’re a good Alpha,” he said after a moment.

“What do you know about birth, Julian? Did you study anatomy at Oxenfurt?”

Julian shook his head. “I- I don’t know anything,” he whispered, his fingers curling into Roach’s mane. “Do you know?”

“Not much,” said Geralt. “I’ve helped birth animals before and I spoke with the doctor in town about birth a little. But that’s not much at all.”

“Will you… stay with me when I… birth?” It was nice to have Julian talking in normal, adult words. Geralt found the baby talk nearly annoying as the sobbing, but he did his best not to let Julian pick up on that.

“Of course,” said Geralt. “I wouldn’t leave you alone for that, Julian.”

The boy just nodded, looking down at his clasped hands.

For a few minutes, neither of them spoke. Finally, Geralt broke the silence, asking, “You wanted me to touch you the other night, Julian, but I didn’t know what you meant.”

“… Touch me?” his eyes flicked to Geralt, then back to the path in front of them.

“You asked me to rub your bum,” Geralt explained. “I didn’t know what you wanted. Did you mean for me to finger you? Or just to touch you?”

Julian swallowed. “I like when you stroke me,” he whispered. He turned to look at Geralt, chewing nervously on his lip. “Just… soft touch.”

Geralt rubbed his leg in responce. “Alright, Julian, I’ll remember that.”

The trail they were following was mostly empty, only occasional travelers passing them, mostly farmers going to and from town to trade. A group of merchants, far too fine to be locals, passed by while they were eating lunch. The leader reined in his horse, flicking his eye over Julian, then looking at Geralt. “How much?”

Julian shivered.

“He’s not for sale,” Geralt said curtly.

The merchant laughed. “I don’t to buy him permanently, Witcher, I just need someone to stick my knot for a few hours.”

“Not for sale,” Geralt said again. Julian curled in on himself, shoulders shaking.

“Then a trade, perhaps. Girl!”

A young woman stepped out of the group, her scent washing over Geralt immediately. Fear. Absolute, consuming, fear. A Beta, at least half elven by the look of her (perhaps more than half, judging by the fact that she hadn’t frozen in the snow). She wore a pair of high knee boots, made from thick fur, and nothing else. Her skin was red from the cold but she hadn’t developed any frost bite. He recognized the burn patterns on her arms as the kind slavers used to cover up Scoia'tael tattooing. She’d probably been captured in a raid and sold into slavery.

“You could play with her while I play with your boy?” said the merchant, his eyes locked on Julian.

Beside Geralt, the Omega shivered, wrapping his arms around his belly.

“Oh,” said the merchant, “the whore’s expecting.” He shook his head and spurred his horse on. Without another word, the caravan moved on.

The Omega crawled into Geralt’s lap once they were out of sight, whimpering and burying his face in Geralt’s neck. When his lips touched the scent glands on Geralt’s neck, all sense went out the window. Head lolling slightly to the side, Geralt cupped the back of the boy’s head, pushing him a bit harder into his neck, wanting to feel more of his tongue.

The boy obeyed, lapping at Geralt’s neck, then sucking at his glands. Geralt had never felt anything like it before. It wasn’t normal kissing, or even the kind that well paid whores did. There was something almost numbing about it, like the pleasant buzz after having too much White Gull. The Omega was a drug and Geralt a helpless addict.

He wanted to fuck Julian until he screamed.

“Gods I- shit! Fuck!” Geralt pushed himself up, stepping away from Julian. The Omega tumbled onto his butt and stared up at the Witcher. “What the hell was that?”

“I wanted to thank you-”

“Thank me?” Geralt demanded. “By- by- what was that?” It terrified him how quickly he’d lost control.

“Alphas like having their scent glands groomed,” explained the boy earnestly. “I- I thought-”

“Do not touch me there again,” said Geralt _. I nearly hurt you_ , he thought frantically. _You were almost raped by your protector in the middle of the fucking woods_. He rubbed his hand over his face. He had to ensure it never happened again. “Pants down.”

The Omega trembled as he pulled his pants to his knees, watching with frightened eyes as Geralt dug through his saddle bags for the Red Cream. He didn’t need to be asked to get on his hands and knees, exposing his ass with the toy peeking out from his hole. Geralt knelt between his legs, dipping his fingers into the cream. _Just a few minutes and I’ll wipe it off_ , he decided, reaching out to spread it over the boy’s ass.

But he coudln’t.

Julian was already shaking, stinking of terror. Anyone could walk by and see him, exposed and begging, and- well, they wouldn’t think any less of Geralt for it. They’d probably laugh and jeer and say Julian must be a stupid slut to have his Alpha punishing him in the middle of the woods.

He wiped hand clean, pulled up the boy’s pants, and said, “I’m sorry I lost my temper.”

“I’m a bad boy. Alpha punish bad Omega.”

 _Oh gods not the baby talk_ , thought Geralt with a sigh. “Julian, you’re not- I’ve never had someone do that to me before. You scared me. That’s all.”

“Bad Omega.”

He pulled the boy to his feet, wrapping an arm around him gently. “No, no, good Omega. Good Omega.”

Julian chewed on his thumb as Geralt led him off the path, around behind a thick tree where no passerby would see them. “Good Omegas get their bum rubbed, remember?”

* * *

The baby talk had been a last ditch effort to figure out what Geralt was going to do. Julian couldn’t figure out why he’d put away the cream, why he’d apologized, why he hadn’t just rented out his ass for a few coins.

He half expected the Witcher to cut a switch, or, worse yet, to make Julian do it.

When Geralt led him away from the path he started to shake. “Shhh,” whispered the Witcher. “I’ll rub your bum because you’re good for me, Julian.”

Geralt sat at the base of the tree, pulled Julian into his arms and very gently cupped Julian’s ass with his gloved hand. It made the toy shift inside him, painful against his tender insides.

He coudln’t help the terrified shiver that went through him.

But Geralt remained gentle, cooing to him and gently beginning to rub his bottom. Julian started to cry. Geralt held him tighter and began to rock slowly. “Good Omega,” the Witcher murmured. “Good Omega.”

He sobbed until he coudln’t manage anymore tears, until all he could do was cough and choke. When the coughing finally subsided, Geralt asked, “Are you with me, Julian?”

“I thought- I thought you would sell me.” He knew he shouldn’t be saying such a thing, because it was Geralt’s right to rent him out for others to abuse, but the Witcher only cupped his head in his hand.

“No, Julian. You’re not a whore and I’m not your pimp.”

“Why didn’t you- uh-”

“You didn’t mean to upset me,” Geralt said quietly. “I couldn’t punish you for that.”

Julian managed a weak nod.

Geralt helped him to his feet. Leading him back toward the road and Roach. He lifted him up into the saddle, rubbing his hand over Julian’s belly. “Look at me, Julian.”

Julian met his terrifying yellow eyes.

“You’re a good boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’ve officially moved on from “waiting to find out if I was exposed but feeling fine” to “still don’t know if I was exposed but not feeling fine.” I still feel okay, but I’m def coming down with something. Fun times. Fun times.


	10. Chapter 10

They didn’t make it to a town that night, instead sheltering in a small cave Geralt found. The Omega asked Geralt to remove the toy for a while, and then plopped himself in Geralt’s lap and begged him to rub his bum again. Geralt told him he had to eat first.

Once he’d eaten, Geralt held and stroked him until he fell asleep.

The next morning, as always, Julian used the bathroom then asked for his toy. Geralt guided him to lay on his back, remove his pants, and spread his legs. Sitting between his spread legs Geralt reached for oil but stopped. “Julian, your hole is inflamed.”

“That’s normal,” said the Omega, his hands folded over his swollen belly.

“No, it’s not,” argued Geralt. His skin was hot to the touch, almost like when he’d first met him.“Julian, does the toy hurt you?”

“I like it,” said the Omega, wiggling slightly. “Please master Geralt-”

His instincts were rebelling against Julian’s every word. “No,” he said. “Put your pants on Julian.”

“But-”

“Julian. If you can’t make good decisions for yourself then I will make them.” The Omega whimpered but did as he was told.

Geralt said nothing as he helped him into the saddle. They traveled in silence for several hours, until Geralt finally asked, “Why do you like that toy so much?”

“Omegas are made to take Alpha Cock,” whispered the boy. “Without it I feel so empty. The toy isn’t as good… but it’s _nice_.”

“But it seems like it hurts,” argued Geralt.

“Good Omegas like pain,” said Julian. “May I have my toy, please?”

“No,” said Geralt firmly. He sighed, then - because Julian looked heartbroken - offered, “Perhaps tomorrow.”

Thankfully, he didn’t press the matter, nodding weakly and staring straight ahead.

Geralt stared straight ahead and pretended not to notice his sulking companion.Roach flicked her ears and ambled on.

There was a notice outside the next town they passed, warning that Small Pox was raging inside and that outsiders should continue on. Out of habit, Geralt nearly stopped, since he was immune to human diseases, but the whiff of pure fear he got from Julian made him press on.

“Did you have it as a child?” Geralt asked, leading Roach back into the trail.

“I don’t know,” whispered Julian. “I- I was sick a lot.”

“It’s not worth the risk, then,” promised Geralt, rubbing the Omega’s leg soothingly. “Your health is more important than a night at an inn.”

That night Julian whimpered and whined until Geralt put the toy back in him, then curled up and went straight to sleep without eating.

Geralt decided to take them as far from that town as he could, just on the off chance that the disease had spread further than people realized. It meant a week of camping outdoors with a shivering, sniffling Omega, but the boy seemed to know better than to complain.

Still, by the third evening, huddled at a pathetic, smoky fire made of wet wood, neither of them were in the best of moods. Julian was completely silent, staring into the embers with dull, heavily lidded eyes. Occasionally he would whimper quietly, rocking himself and chewing on his lower lip.

Geralt grit his teeth at every noise and movement. “What?” he asked finally, tired of the boy’s noises.

“I can’t feel my toes.”

“Move closer to the fire,” said Geralt. When the Omega didn’t move by himself Geralt picked him up and manually shifted him, pulling him into his lap and then resuming his silent brooding.

The boy didn’t complain, just sat stiffly in Geralt’s lap, chewing nervously at his lip. Eventually he drifted off to sleep, and Geralt allowed himself to relax some, falling into a peaceful meditation.

When the Omega slipped away, Geralt said nothing. Roach flicked her ears and stamped her feet, but Geralt remained still. _I’m not going to follow him if he’s just relieving himself, he doesn’t need an audience for that_.

But when his footsteps didn’t pause, Geralt frowned. He pushed himself up slowly, making his way through the woods, following the Omega’s footprints in the frozen ground.

“If you’re trying to run away, you won’t make it.” He was too tired to be truly angry, even as the Omega spun around and stared at him with huge, frightened eyes.

“Master-”

“Don’t call me that,” he snapped. Geralt rubbed a gloved hand over his face. _Gods what have I gotten myself into?_

The boy remained frozen in place, staring at Geralt with wide, terrified eyes.

“Well?” Geralt asked. “Do you want to freeze to death or not?”

He turned sharply and headed back to camp, leaving the boy to decide what he was going to do. After a moment, he heard soft footsteps following behind him.

Back at camp, Geralt made a point not to look at the Omega as he leaned against Roach, watching Geralt grumble to himself and pick up the remains of their camp.

“I’m sorry.”

Geralt said nothing.

“Please don’t leave me.”

“I’m not going to leave you.”

“Please don’t hurt me.”

Geralt sighed. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He wasn’t in the mood and doubted it would have any effect on the Omega’s behavior anyway.

Julian bit his lip and nodded slowly. “Thank you,” he whispered quietly.

Geralt thought about asking what he’d been doing, then decided it was probably best that he didn’t. Instead he just grabbed the boy and lifted him up into the saddle. “We’ll find a town soon,” he promised.

When they finally found a town that seemed to be far enough from the plague that Geralt felt safe, Julian looked as though he was going to die from delight at the idea of an inn.

People stopped to stare as they made their way into town, no doubt a wild and unusual sight. _What a sight we make_ , thought Geralt, as a young boy, no older than five or six, was pulled away by his mother. _A pregnant Omega and a disfigured Witcher_.

Either the townsfolk didn’t care if he heard them or didn’t realize how good a Witcher’s hearing was, either way, Geralt could clearly hear the whispers as he helped the boy down from Roach.

_“See son, if you don’t stay inside the town gates the Witchers will mutate you into an Omega and force children into you.”_

_“I thought the Witcher broodmares were kept in their fortresses.”_ Geralt shook his head. It was an old rumor, with no proof in it. There were no Omega broodmares for the Witchers, kept sealed away in their Keeps, constantly impregnated to supply the next generation of monster hunters. But the rumor was older than Geralt and didn’t seem to be going anywhere anytime soon.

He tuned them out as he bought the boy a meat pie from the market.

There was only a small room left at the inn. It was cramped, but situated above the tavern’s kitchen, meaning it was always warm. Julian didn’t say a word about the close quarters, just ate the stew Geralt offered him and curled into a ball.

“I’m going out,” he said. “Stay here and stay out of trouble.”

“Yes, sir,” whispered Julian.

Geralt nodded gruffly and locked the door behind him. There was no sign of a contract, no rumors from any of the people at the inn, and they were running lower than he wanted to on coin. But Geralt grit his teeth and made a note to say nothing to the boy. It wasn’t his fault and snapping at him wouldn’t do any good.

Finally, deciding that he wasn’t going to get anything useful, Geralt made his way back to the inn, nodding at the innkeeper as he stomped up the steps.

Geralt could smell blood from outside the room. “Julian?” he called. “Julian?”

He pushed the door open, stepping inside. But Julian wasn’t there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is “Geralt being inconvenienced by a plague” a reference to me, the author, being inconvenienced by Covid? Possibly.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter includes a miscarriage. 
> 
> Oh and my knowledge of this comes from historical fiction I’ve read so like, if it sucks blame that.

“Shit,” muttered Geralt.

A quick glance around the room did not reveal any clues to Julian’s location nor the source of the smell of blood. _He couldn’t have gone far_ , decided Geralt. _And he hasn’t taken anything with him_.

Seemingly nothing was missing. All of Geralt’s supplies were where they belonged, and Julian’s toy was laying discarded on the bed.

He turned to leave and that was when he noticed that his cloak, which had been hanging by the door to dry, was no longer there. _At least he won’t freeze_ , Geralt decided.

For a moment he considered asking the innkeeper if he had seen anything, but drawing undue attention to a missing Omega, particuarly one as vulnerable as Julian, seemed like a poor idea. So Geralt squared his shoulders and set off to find the boy himself.

He stepped out of the inn, allowing his senses to take over, scanning the snow covered ground. Unfortunately there were layers of tracks, which would have made it impossible for a mortal to follow Julian.

Fortunately, Geralt wasn’t a moral.

Julian’s prints were lighter than the rest, and Geralt found them after only a moment’s searching. His gait was uneven, stumbling, his stride varying in length from short steps to long hops. But it seemed he’d been moving purposefully.

_A hour old, no more_ , he decided. _Good, it means I can catch him sooner rather than later_. He hurried through the town, making a point not to appear too suspicious. If people saw a Witcher out and about searching there was no telling what assumptions they might make. The best case scenario they would assume he was hunting a monster, and that would lead to panic.

Instead he kept his shoulders straight, looking pointedly ahead, his eyes only occasionally darting down to ensure he was still following the tracks.

He went out of the town, into the woods, where he picked up his pace, moving more quickly over the frozen ground. The sun was setting and a chill was setting in. Geralt’s cloak would benefit him somewhat, but it wouldn’t protect him indefinitely.

_Stupid boy_ , he thought grumpily. But he found that he couldn’t be too angry. _Why wouldn’t he run away? Who wouldn’t flee a mutant? I was a fool to ever bring him along, I should find him somewhere safe and leave him. No interest or knowledge is worth traumatizing him._

But even as he thought it to himself, Geralt wasn’t certain he would be able to follow through. He was starting to like the Omega, in a strange way. It was nice to have company, even if the boy seemed miserable most of the time. And it was far too easy to rationalize that Julian was safest with him, away from those who would harm him.

With a shake of his head, Geralt forced himself to stop worrying and instead focused on following Julian’s tracks. They were fresher than ever, leaving him certain he was almost caught up with the boy.

Finally, he could smell blood and knew he was close.

Julian was curled under a tree, wrapped in Geralt’s cloak, but still shivering. The scent of blood clung to him, along with an underlying scent of fear.

Geralt angled his approach to come up in front of him, rather than sneaking up behind him and scaring him, making sure the boy had plenty of warning that he was coming. He stopped several feet away from him and waited for him to speak, to explain what was happening.

For a moment, he said nothing. “The baby’s dead,” said Julian. There was no emotion in his voice, just dull truth. Disinterest, even.

Geralt crouched down, hoping to make himself less threatening. It wasn’t easy to do, not as a Witcher, but he tried his best anyway, remembering how he had once calmed a frightened dog. “What can I do?” he asked, keeping his voice level.

A tremor ran through Julian’s body and he groaned.

“Julian-”

Another gasp. Another tremor. It didn’t seem to be caused by fear, but rather by pain coming from Julian’s stomach. He had his hands twisted in his shirt, knuckles white despite the cold having turned his fingers red.

When he spoke, there was still no emotion in his voice, “I always thought it would be nice to die in the woods.”

“You’re not going to die,” Geralt promised. “Julian, let’s go back to the inn. Tea and a hot water bottle will help.” He didn’t know if it would, but he wasn’t about to let Julian know how in over his head he was.

Julian didn’t reply. Geralt scooted a bit closer.

The boy was watching him with keen blue eyes. Geralt stopped. “Can you walk?”

“No.”

“May I help you up?”

His eyes narrowed, seeming to test Geralt as he said, “No.”

Geralt nodded. It had taken him two hours to get close enough to touch the frightened dog. Hopefully it wouldn’t take that long with Julian.

_As long as he seems stable I’ll let him wait this out_ , Geralt decided. _If he seems to worsen I’ll grab him even if he resists_. The blood smelled old, as though Julian was no longer bleeding. If it started up again with fresh blood, Geralt would know. 

Nodding, he stepped back, finding an exposed tree root that was mostly free of snow and ice to sit on. “How can I help you?”

Julian bared his teeth.

_I almost think he’s trying to push me into losing my temper, but I won’t do it. I won’t be a monster, not to him, not even if that’s what he expects of me_.

“There’s warm food at the inn,” Geralt promised. “We can get the blood cleaned off or find a doctor-”

“I don’t want to see a doctor.”

Geralt nodded. “You lost a baby before,” he said slowly. “Yes? You- you know what’s happening?”

“I’ll be fine,” said Julian. “It’s not that different from a woman’s menstrual cycle, except it comes out of my ass.”

“Did you study that at Oxenfurt?” He wanted to keep the boy talking, keep them both thinking about something other than the dead baby.

“Studied my classmates,” he muttered, and there was almost a hint of a grin on his lips.

Geralt allowed himself a quiet chuckle. “Ladies man, were you?”

The amusement faded. “Doesn’t matter.”

He wondered if Julian even liked men. He wondered if he liked anyone after what he’d been through. _I wouldn’t blame him if he never let anyone touch him ever again_.

There was silence for a few moments, until Julian finally spoke. “I- I want to wash up.”

“I can get you warm water and rags.”

Julian nodded and finally uncurled himself. “I- can you help me up?”

Geralt nodded and stood, walking softly toward Julian and holding out his hand. Cautiously the boy took it and let him pull him to his feet. “I can walk,” he whispered.

Geralt nodded.

He moved stiffly, as though he were in a great deal of pain and Geralt found himself clenching his fists to resist the urge to help him. But it seemed that his help - or perhaps just his touch - was the last thing he wanted at the moment.

“This isn’t your fault,” Geralt promised. “You’re malnourished still, and under a great deal of stress. There’s nothing wrong with you. People have miscarriages Julian, it doesn’t mean you’re damaged.”

Julian said nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M COVID FREE NOW. Well, more or less lol. I feel soooooo much better than I have in ages though.


	12. Chapter 12

_It doesn’t mean you’re damaged._

_It doesn’t mean you’re damaged._

_It doesn’t mean you’re damaged._

Julian squeezed his eyes closed against the onslaught of Geralt’s words, the meaning perfectly fucking obvious, even if he hadn’t said it out loud.

He barely processed their walk back to the inn, slumping on the floor of their and groaning quietly.

“You can lay in the bed,” said Geralt gently.

Julian grunted. The floor was perfectly fine - and closer to the warm fire - so he saw no reason to get up and drag himself anywhere else. Geralt knelt beside him, studying him with his horrifying yellow eyes. “What can I do?” the Witcher asked, his voice a low growl. It could have been either anger or concern, Julian wasn’t about to ask which one.

It didn’t matter either way. All Julian wanted was for Geralt to leave him alone, but he doubted the Alpha would allow that.

“Tea?” he asked weakly. “And water to clean up?”

Geralt nodded and moved away.

Julian curled in on himself, squeezing his eyes shut. He felt disgusting, his legs sticky with congealing blood. His new trousers which Geralt had bought for him were surely ruined. No doubt the Alpha was going to be angry about that on top of everything else.

He’d wanted the baby so badly and now- oh gods why wasn’t he angry? Was it coming later? Or was he going to brood in silence? Perhaps he wouldn’t punish Julian for loosing the baby outright, but instead find other ways to make his life miserable.

And he’d want another baby, of course.

_I can’t do this again. I can’t let him- I don’t want-_

“Please,” he whimpered. Then curled in on himself, wishing he hadn’t said anything.

Geralt, kneeling by the fire, paused and look at Julian. “What is it, Julian?”

His mind scrambled to come up with something, anything, rather than be forced to admit what he’d been thinking. “Alpha clean Omega?”

 _Oh gods what have I done?_ Julian wanted to smack himself or perhaps throw himself out the window.

Geralt’s expression shifted, a slight annoyance crossing his features.

 _Finally_ , thought Julian. At least he was having some sort of reaction.

“Can you speak in complete sentences, Julian?”

He didn’t understand. The baby talk had worked with his last master, and it had seemed to be working with Geralt, so why- did he only want it out of Julian when he was pregnant? Was that it?

“Julian?” Geralt repeated and with a wince he realized that he’d been completely silent.

“Yes,” he whispered. “I can.”

“Thank you.” The Witcher gave him a strained smile, almost a grimace, as he lifted the kettle off the fire. “Do you want my help to clean yourself, Julian?”

No. No he didn’t. But- maybe he did. Maybe he just wanted to lay on his back and let Geralt handle everything. Maybe, for once, he didn’t want to be the one having to handle everything.

Maybe Geralt wasn’t completely terrible - his obsession with Julian’s baby aside, he’d always taken care of him. _He’ll probably put his fingers up my ass again_ , thought Julian glumly. _Or milk me_.

But by the gods he just wanted to sleep.

* * *

Just as Geralt was about to try to talk to Julian again, thinking he’d spaced out or even fallen unconscious, the boy whispered, “Yes please.”

“Alright, Julian,” he said gently, reaching out to touch his shoulder. Geralt found himself at a loss for what to do. Everything to do with Julian was strange and new, but in this case, it was something he’d been wholly unprepared for.

He fetched a bowl of water and a clean cloth, then moved to where the Omega was still sprawled on the floor. He carefully rolled him onto his back, then rubbed his stomach gently. “I’m going to pull your pants down.”

Julian only nodded and closed his eyes, laying his arm over his face.

Very carefully, Geralt pulled down his pants, setting them aside and making a mental note to see if he had the funds to buy a new pair or if they would have to attempt to wash out the blood.

The Omega’s thighs were sticky with blood. There was a rag between his legs already, which he must have gotten out of Geralt’s bags and shoved down his pants in an effort to staunch the blood flow.

Very slowly, Geralt peeled away the rag, setting it on top of Julian’s stained pants.

He felt disgusting. _I shouldn’t be touching him like this_ , he thought glumly. It was clear Julian wasn’t comfortable, and Geralt was reminded of their first meeting, when the boy had been tied to a table.

 _He’s in no fit state to clean himself_ , Geralt reminded himself. _I’m doing him a favor_. But still, it felt somehow wrong. All his interest in the boy, his (well, he knew it was an obsession) _studies_ of him, he’d managed to justify it all, saying it was in the boy’s best interest.

But was it?

Geralt rubbed the cloth up Julian’s leg, wiping away the blood. He tried not to look at it too closely. The smell was nearly overwhelming. It wasn’t regular blood, there was something more to it (or perhaps that was just Geralt’s imagionation).

_Is this my fault? Was it stress that caused him to lose the baby? The stress of me? Of being with a monster, constantly expecting harm? Was it because of the traveling?_

He wanted to touch Julian, not out of curiosity or lust, but out of comfort. Geralt wanted to stroke his hair, to promise that he would be fine, that he was safe, that the Witcher would never hurt him. He wanted to rub his scent glands against Julian’s, to smother the Omega in his scent until the boy’s heart rate slowed down. He could rub his back until he was limp and relaxed, then tuck him into bed.

 _Is this what an Alpha’s instincts are?_ He’d never felt like that before. He had enjoyed taking care of Julian, just because it let him be close to someone, but he’d never craved it the way he was at the moment.

But he forced himself to continue cleaning him as clinically as he could. He didn’t rub his legs or stroke his belly. He didn’t pull the boy into his lap. He didn’t hold his hand.

They just needed to push through, one step at a time.

**Author's Note:**

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> 
> All content related to this fic can be found under the [Strange Acquisition Series Tag](https://sunflowersupremes.tumblr.com/tagged/series%3A-A-Strange-Acquisition)


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